


I Can't Find My Bluebird (But I Will)

by thisisapaige



Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, But also, Castiel Deserves to be Saved, Castiel Makes a Deal with The Shadow (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx Mixtape, Determined Dean Winchester, Grieving Dean Winchester, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Led Zeppelin References, M/M, One Shot, Sad, Season/Series 15, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural), Temporary Character Death, but it will be, darn it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige
Summary: (For Suptober20. Day 22 Prompt: “I cursed the gloom that set upon us. But I know that I love you so…”)⁂Something scratched against Dean’s skin, something rectangular and made of plastic, when he squeezed the coat tighter. Placing the coat in his lap, Dean searched for the shape. There, in the breast pocket right where Cas's heart was-- right where his heartwill be-- was a tape.In Dean's own handwriting, carefully labelled on the tape, were the wordsDean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Thisisapaige's Suptober20 Collection [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950343
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	I Can't Find My Bluebird (But I Will)

The only thing Cas left behind was a trench coat.

Dean couldn’t think about it, couldn’t believe what he saw, couldn’t accept the truth. Before he knew it, Dean was driving Baby down an endless dark highway. He drove in silence for a long while, his mind blank, his eyes burning, the sky black.

It couldn't be real. It couldn't have happened. It couldn't.

Dean looked down at his shoulder and, there it was, blood. Blood in the shape of fingers. A sob caught in Dean's throat.

It was real. It was real. It was real.

Dean needed to call Sam. Dean needed to tell Sam where he went and what happened but all Dean could do was drive. 

Dean couldn't see the road anymore. He pulled over. He didn't know where he was, just that he was somewhere big and dark and empty. He left the engine running. Dean shook from the effort it took to stay in one piece, to hold himself together.

The trench coat sat in the back seat. Dean could see it in the rearview mirror, bunched up into a ball. That seemed wrong somehow.

Twisting and contorting himself to reach it, Dean rescued the coat from the back seat. He dropped the coat over the passenger's side, smoothing out the wrinkles and fixing the collar and lapels. The material was cold.

Dean folded the coat carefully, like it was precious, like it was important, because it was. After all, Cas would need it when he came back. 

Because Cas always came back. Dean clutched the coat to his chest. Cas always came back. He did. He had to.

Something scratched against Dean’s skin, something rectangular and made of plastic, when he squeezed the coat tighter. Placing the coat in his lap, Dean searched for the shape. There, in the breast pocket right where Cas's heart was-- right where his heart _will be_ \-- was a tape. 

In Dean's own handwriting, carefully labelled on the tape, were the words _Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx._

It was a gift. Cas was supposed to keep it.

That was the moment Dean gave up on trying to hold himself together.

The dashboard lights blurred. Dean blinked and blinked and blinked but he couldn't see them. He couldn't see anything.

Blindly, Dean shoved the tape into the tape deck. He found it no problem. He knew his Baby, inside and out. 

Leaning his head back on the seat, Dean closed his eyes. When the first song started, a wobbly, watery smile crept across Dean's face.

Be kind. Rewind. Cas remembered lesson number one.

Dean remembered making the tape. He remembered Sam making fun of him for it. Sam was right, a mixtape was a lot more work than a playlist, but that was the whole point. All that work made it more personal, more meaningful.

Maybe that was silly. Maybe Dean was just old. But he put that tape together-- together for Cas-- and poured over his choices for hours, days, weeks.

Cas had already seen Dean's soul, way back when he rescued him from Hell. That tape and those songs, however, was when Dean chose to lay his soul bare, chose to show Cas what was hidden underneath: his heart.

Dean wondered if an angel could understand the difference.

Dean wanted to say that he had good times, bad times-- you know Dean's had his share-- and hoped Cas knew he was part of the good times. One song was a bit of a plea-- you don't have to go-- but look how that turned out. Another made his heart pound still-- squeeze my lemon-- because, well, what if Cas didn't get it? But what if he did? Dean was slowly coming to terms with how he felt but, what about Cas? Dean added it anyway because no Zepp list was complete without a little _Travelling Riverside Blues_. After all, once Dean added all those songs about love, there was no point in holding back.

There were more, of course. Every song was deliberately chosen. Dean hummed each melody and sang every word, knowing every note, every pause, every swell. They were etched upon Dean's heart and soul, much like a certain angel.

Dean wasn't good with words. Words came out wrong, sounded angry, didn't make it past his throat but, this tape, these _Top 13 Traxx_ , said everything Dean wanted Cas to hear.

The tape said, _I love you._

The last song played, slow and melancholy-- though Dean always thought there was a bit of hope in the end-- and Dean sang along with that one too. Towards the end of it, it became more than a song. It became a promise, a proclamation, a prayer.

"I cursed the gloom that set upon us, 'pon us, 'pon us, 'pon us. But I know that I love you so." 

Dean's voice caught on the last word. He couldn't finish the last verse. He opened his eyes and stared forward, hands clenching fistfuls of the coat in his lap. He watched the soft patter of water drop onto Baby's windshield.

Just a little rain. 

He listened to the raindrops. He listened to Baby’s rumble. He listened to the hiss of the finished tape. 

Dean took a deep breath and sat up in his seat. He smoothed the wrinkles his clenched fists created in the coat, then rewound the tape. He hit play. 

It was time to ramble on.

Dean shifted Baby into drive and rocketed down the highway.

Cas always came back. Dean would make sure of it.

The evil one may have crept up and slipped away with him, but Dean knew he was going to find his bluebird.

⁂

In the darkest depths of the Empty, the bluebird opened his eyes. Whispers were all around him, voices of those he killed, those he could not save, those he betrayed. There was one voice, however, one voice that cut through all the others. It was soft, gentle, familiar. It sang softly, calling out for its bluebird. 

The bluebird stood, looked around, and listened. 

_Hey, Cas, you got your ears on?_

**Author's Note:**

> So, while I consider myself a Zepp fan, I'm definitely not the aficionado a lot of you are. Feel free to tell me (respectfully) how wrong I am about the mixtape. I love it when people are passionate about things. I think it is beautiful. 
> 
> If you wanna see Cas get saved, I wrote that fic too! It's [ Raised You From Perdition.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053896) (He will get saved, darn it. I'm holding out hope!)  
> [Say hello to me on Tumblr!](https://thisisapaige.tumblr.com/)


End file.
